


Of Course the Maximus Armor Has a Spike

by Cranky_Tanky



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluid Kink, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Rutting, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spike and Valve, Sticky Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Thighfucking, Transfluid (Transformers), a truly disgusting amount of transfluid, like amounts that make you say "sir that's too much put some back", like there is A LOT of jizz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29707791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cranky_Tanky/pseuds/Cranky_Tanky
Summary: Rung and Maximus Ambus get up to some fun hijinks.
Relationships: Maximus Ambus/Rung, Minimus Ambus/Rung (Transformers)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 30





	Of Course the Maximus Armor Has a Spike

"Are you… certain about this, Rung?"

"Oh yes, quite." Rung flashed a winning smile. He lay back facing up, and then gasped softly. "Ooh! Here." He put his glasses away, giggling softly. The table hurt his joints a little, but it was certainly a small price to pay for what was coming next. He let his fans click on at the thought, and did his best Bedroom Eyes. “Promise I won’t break, Maximus.”

Kneeling above him, Maximus swallowed audibly, cheeks flushed pink, and let his spike out, hydraulics hissing as it pressurized into his hand. It was huge, and thick, deep blue and light gray with flickering red biolights. Rung resisted the urge to  _ drool  _ and instead just rubbed his legs together to alleviate the growing stickiness between them, letting his own spike out. He could feel his spark flare against the glass casing in sheer excitement, brightening the room in a momentary flash. His spike bobbed against his belly, already beading with prefluid at the tip. “Magnus,” he cooed, trying to keep the frustrated whine out of his voice, but his next question was genuine. “Are you still comfortable with this?”

“Yes!” Maximus’s whole face was pink, now. He was stroking himself distractedly, eyes rooted to Rung’s supine form on the table, legs spread casually and sparkchamber on full display through the glass window on his chest. Maximus’s fist gently moved up and down, squeezing his spike as his thumb played with the head. “I’m just -- a little -- mmh -- shy, I suppose. And I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh, Maximus.” Rung waved aside the second notion with a little “pfft.” “If you think a spike nearly as big as I am would hurt me, you haven’t been aboard this trainwreck of a ship around me. Surely it can’t be as bad as getting my head blown off, or my arm knocked off, or any number of truly disastrous events that follow me around this ship.” They both took a second to giggle about that, though Maximus was notably less casual about it.

Maximus stopped stroking himself, took a breath and stepped up to the table, leaning over it to brace his hands over Rung’s head. His spike laid over top Rung’s belly and all the way up to his spark, head resting over the glass casing. Rung bit his lip and resisted the urge to squirm, flushing in the face himself. His own spike was pressed up to the underside of Maximus’s, shifted by every tiny little movement. Magnus tentatively pushed his hips forwards, sliding his spike up Rung’s body and accidentally bumping Rung across the cheek with it as the psychbot turned his head to the side to let out a warbling gasp. He could feel his own spike twitch against his belly, the underside up against the truly enormous ridges on Maximus’s spike. Above him, Maximus groaned softly, and pulled back, starting up a rhythm. Rung just kept his head to the side as the head of Maximus’s spike slid over his cheek again and again and again, leaving a smear of prefluid so copious it actually started to drool down Rung’s face. Rung moaned out loud, closing his eyes and letting his mouth hang open as he panted. His hands flew up to grasp at Maximus’s forearms for an anchor and he spread his legs further, valve panel clicking open of its own volition. “Oh!  _ Yes, _ Maximus, just like that!”

The whine of Rung’s fans were completely drowned out by the roar of Maximus’s own fans, so powerful they were stirring up a breeze in the room as they dumped hot, dry air. Maximus’s spike was leaving a streak of prefluid now, all up and down Rung’s body, slicking the space between them. The feeling of the fluids on his frame, dripping into any available seam, made Rung hot and needy, spike twitching under the ruthless, firm back-and-forth slide. Maximus’s spike was scorching, throbbing, a blessing to Rung’s own need. He bit back a strangled whimper when one of Maximus’s spike ridges caught on the nodes just under the head of his spike, sending a jolt of pleasure through his array so suddenly it almost pushed him over the edge. Maximus was panting now, coolant dripping from his frame, and he adjusted his stance so he could really start rutting. Rung just welcomed the faster pace, moaning and huffing and whimpering. He could feel liquid heat pooling fast and molten in his gut, swirling into a tighter and tighter and tighter ball at the base of his spike. “Ooh-! Maximus, yes, yes -- keep going, you’re doing wonderfully-!”

Maximus just groaned above him. He was really bucking his hips now, spike twitching over top Rung’s face as it slid over his cheek again and again. Half of Rung’s face was slicked now, with pearlish pinkish fluid, shining in the overhead lights. Rung wailed as the increased pace finally pushed his spike over the edge and charge crackled through his frame, increased by all the conductive fluid drenching his body. The tightness at the base of his spike released all at once in throbbing pulses, the area between Maximus and Rung suddenly a lot wetter. And Maximus hadn’t even overloaded yet… Rung drooled happily at the thought, optics rolling back and flickering, as his own spike was mercilessly overstimulated, the comparatively tiny amount of transfluid only further serving to slick up Rung’s body under Maximus’s rutting spike. If Rung tried, he could probably --

Rung brought his legs closer together, closing his thighs around Maximus’s spike, and the loadbearer outright snarled, picking up the pace even further. Rung knew he was making some truly undignified faces and truly  _ disgusting  _ noises, but he couldn’t have cared less in that moment as Maximus’s spike rutted over his body firm, hot, slick, and fast, making wet noises. Rung  _ knew  _ he was babbling and whimpering and panting like shareware. Maximus groaned, every panting breath a small moan. “R-rung,” he warned, fans roaring. “I -- I’m getting close.”

“I h-hope you are!” Rung threw his head back, gasping for cool air. “I w-want-!” He couldn’t get it out with how hard his body was being shifted into the table -- thank Primus he’d taken off his blasted wheelpack for this or they might actually gouge marks into the table, not to mention kill his back -- but Maximus knew exactly what he was talking about.

“I’ll give it to you,” he murmured, gritting his teeth. Rung just wailed again, spike overstimulated to the point of pain, but it was so delicious.  _ “R-rung!”  _ Rung felt Maximus’s spike twitch, hard, and then the giant was pulling away to overload directly onto his frame, a deluge of pinkish transfluid gushing onto Rung’s body and face. The orange bot whimpered and dove a hand down to stroke at his own spike, managing to rip another overload out of himself by the roots as he choked out a cry that shattered into binary. The charge arcing across his frame visibly jumped from joint to joint, conducted by the transfluid, and it knocked him completely offline for a moment.

When he came to, the Maximus armor was sitting dormant off to the side, and a rag was tenderly wiping over his frame. Minimus smiled at him as he woozily came to. “How are you feeling?” He asked. “You were offline for a few minutes.”

“Ooh, dear,” Rung sighed, shaking his head. He was a little dizzy. “That was the hardest I’ve overloaded in quite a while -- thank you, Minimus.”

“It’s not a problem,” Minimus said, putting the rag back into a bucket of solvent and wringing it out. Then it was back over Rung’s body, wiping away at least most of the goop. He’d have to shower to really get it off, but if he got up now, he’d just look like he fell into vat of transfluid and there was no way Minimus was going to let him track it all over the floor. Nor did he want to. He just exhaustedly let Minimus wipe him off, sated by the pleasant ache in his pelvic cradle. “You know,” Minimus said, “when you asked if I’d like to do this, I was quite surprised. I hadn’t considered this as an option.”

“Yes, well,” Rung said, laughing a little. “The second I saw Brainstorm’s work on Necroworld I knew there’d be no way he’d build you that armor without a spike, and I wanted to see it. I certainly wasn’t disappointed.”

“Verity would call you a -- what is it, again -- ah. A ‘size queen.’” The air quotes in Minimus’s voice made Rung titter, lifting one hand to his mouth. 

“Yes, well. Guilty as charged.” Rung sighed, laying his head back to go easy on his neck. “Oh, my. We’ll have to do that again.”

“Agreed.” Minimus stepped back, putting the rag into the solvent. “Alright -- you can get up now. I would go shower before the transfluid dries.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Rung agreed, sitting up with a groan. “Oh, dear…” He managed to get upright and hop off the table, hobbling to the shower as his joints creaked and protested. He grumbled about being old for a moment, and quickly showered off, making sure he was clean, dry, and presentable before re-emerging. Minimus had cleaned the Maximus armor in his absence and passed him to dump out the solvent and toss the rag into sink to soak. Finally, they both settled down into bed as Minimus pulled out a datapad. “Which poem this time, Minimus, dear?”

“Let’s see,” Minimus said, scrolling through the poetry datapad. “How does this one look to you?”

“Perfect,” Rung said, and kissed Minimus on the helm.


End file.
